A good many years ago, before, indeed, I can remember, His Majesty's Ship Laurel, a corvette of eighteen guns and a hundred and thirty men, commanded by Captain Blunt, formed one of the West India squadron. She, with another corvette, and a brig in company, came one fine morning off a beautiful island, then in possession of the French, although, as Dick Driver, from whom I got the particulars, said, properly belonged to England, at least, it once had. Of course, therefore, it was their business to get it back again. Dick could not recollect its name, nor the exact date of the occurrences I am describing, for, being no scholar, he was a very bad hand at recollecting dates; and as he could not write his own name, of course it was not to be expected that he would keep a journal, or remember very accurately all the places he had visited.
Twelve-year old Charley Anne Warfield has cancer. Pancreatic cancer. It killed her grandmother. Her mother is in remission. It's metastasized and moved to her liver. Six months is what Gary and Jean, her parents, hope for. They keep it a secret from Charley. Just want her to live a normal life for as long as she can. But mysterious neighbors, a horse that won't die, and a magical beach ride, teach Charley many lessons about miracles. And about trust. In herself. Her family. Her horse. Her God.
Motorbike Parks Articles
Motorbike Parks Books